Putting Up Walls
by Simple Chaos
Summary: When Thalia was turned into a tree, everyone though she was in a sort of coma.  But what if she wasn't? What if she'd heard it all? What if she knew what was happening? What if she knew everything, thanks to a friend. A friend she didn't know the name of.
1. The Sounds of Camp

**Author's Notes: I promise that I'll get What We Understand updated soon, but I'm having a major case of writer's block. So, to make up for it, I'm posting this little idea that popped into my head. I admit, the idea's a little out there, but I think it just might work.**

I'll admit it. Sometimes I miss my time as a tree. I miss the breeze of the night setting over me, putting me to sleep. I miss the feeling of being forever secure. I miss being in one place. I miss the change being so slow that you couldn't tell you were changing at all.

But most of all, I miss listening to him.

When I was a tree, everyone simply assumed that I went into a vegetative state. The idea is laughable, if you ask me. Then again, no one ever did.

No, I wasn't in a vegetative state. I couldn't see, but I could feel things, like the cold winter breezes rushing through my pine needles. I could smell things, like the barbeque that was always served for dinner.

But most of all, I love hearing things.

When I couldn't see anymore, I used my hearing for just about everything. I learned to love the sounds of camp. The chirping birds, the spatting Ares kids, the disputes over volleyball game winners, the upset harpies if demigods escaped before they got their snack, the clopping of Chiron's hooves, the meaningless chatter of the campers. I loved it all.

But most of all, I loved listening to him talk. The smooth sound of his voice, the barely-there, almost-unnoticeable southern drawl that no one but me would be able to detect.

He talked about everything. He told me what was happening, even though he didn't know I could even here. He told me about Luke's quest. About Luke turning evil, about Selina working with him. He told me about Annabeth growing up. He told me of a boy named Percy Jackson. He told me about Luke's murder attempt. About Annabeth's little crush. He told me about anything and everything. How he knew it all, I couldn't contemplate.

At camp, he knew everything that happened. He knew Luke was going to try to kill Percy, but he didn't stop him. He knew Selina was helping Luke, but he never confronted her. And somehow, in some way, he knew that I was still alive. That I was still me. And couldn't thank him enough for that.


	2. Daughter of Zeus

**Author's Note: Oh, and I'm changing the title to Putting Up Walls.**

And when I started feeling sick, he was there too. He was there every night. He never told me what was wrong, just said that I'd be alright. But then it started getting worse. My needles started drooping, I was losing my natural green color. The effects were no longer simply mental, they were affecting my physical health as well. And I started doubting I would really be okay.

He told me when Annabeth arrived. I wasn't really surprised she'd brought Percy. Really, I wouldn't have expected anything else, considering they were half-bloods. He told me of their disappearance too, and how they were secretly going to get the Golden Fleece. But he never told me what the camp needed it for.

With each day I was more miserable. Each day was torturous. I got fatigued from spending the nights up, listening to him. That was the only time I felt well. My color returned and my needles stopped drooping. But when he'd leave I'd just feel worse. I got headaches from trying to sleep with all the loud campers. I spent many hours cursing my highly tuned ears.

Then came the night he was almost vibrating with happiness. He told me Annabeth and Percy would be back the next day. And when he left, he told me I'd get through my pain, like he said every night. Except tonight, he sounded like he really knew I was going to be fine. And so I believed him.

At that time the minutes felt like hours, the hours felt like days, and the days felt like eternity in the fields of punishment. My world went sideways and I couldn't understand anything. I came inches from going mad just to be saved by the sound of his voice. So I suffered through every second, caring to count the days only to be sure he would come.

And that is when, half insane, I felt my world straighten. My minutes still felt much too long to be healthy, but they were no longer hours as they'd once been. My hours weren't days, my days weren't torture. I was free to think again, free to live and sleep and be happy for this peace I'd gotten.

He seemed to know I'd gotten better when he talked to me that night. And so, in his fit of relief, he told me what he'd refused to before. He told me all he knew of what happened. I enjoyed our meeting more than any of the ones we'd had in months.

He spent the whole night there, leaving only when it had been light for long enough that I could feel the heat from the sun. The sounds that filled the camp were beautiful, for the first time in a long time. To put it simply, I was blissed.

Though I was no longer ill, he still came nightly and stayed to first light for days.

I'd felt a pulling sensation in my branches for a flicker of a second. Then another, and another. They were coming closer and closer together. I felt like someone was running a string down my arm.

He hadn't come yet. He was late. I became bored, and started listening to mutterings from below me. It didn't take me long to realize it was Annabeth. She was tired, trying to keep herself awake.

She finally fell asleep hours later. By that time, the feeling had spread to my entire body.

He came then, only talking in whispers, so as not to wake Annabeth up. I felt as if someone had punched me in the gut and, had I been in my normal body, I would've gasped in pain. But it left as soon as it had come. The feeling came back, stronger this time.

It was then that I noticed he had stopped talking. It seemed like forever before he spoke again. He told me to be quiet. As if I could make any noise at the time.

I felt like I'd been punched again, only this time it didn't stop. It seemed to go on forever, and I soon blacked out. When I became conscious again, I was still only half-aware of what was going on.

His voice sounded urgent, so I tried to listen. He was explaining what was going on, but as hard as I tried to concentrate, I couldn't hear half of what he said. From what I got though, the fleece had more power than we'd thought. And something big was happening. Then he told me something that would stick with me until the day that I die.

"I don't want you to look for me," he said. "Think of it as a wall I'm putting up. I'm good at that, putting up walls." He sighed like the weight of the sky was suddenly on his shoulders. That's when I saw the retreating form of a tall, sandy-blonde haired boy. I only had enough time to register that I shouldn't be seeing _anything_ before I blacked out again.

I came out of it this time, feeling like I was being ripped in two. The pain was worse than anything I ever imagined I could endure. And his words swirled around me, suffocating me, crushing me. The fleece. It was working too well. But the fleece wasn't healing me. _I_ hadn't been poisoned. The tree had. And now it was going to kill me, feeding my energy to the tree.

I prayed to my dad with everything I had. I spent an hour praying before I felt it. It was slow at first, just a slight tingling. But soon my entire being felt like there was electricity running through it. The pain was still there, and growing stronger. But this had a sort of opposite effect. It didn't numb the pain as much as sugarcoat it. Like getting a lollipop after a shot.

I tried to move, knowing that I could. Not like when you move, and you see that you've moved your arm, but more like I could _feel_ my muscles working. I guess anyone would, had they spent years as a tree, unable to move. I groaned. The pain worsened when I moved. Of course, I hadn't moved. Not visibly, at least. I'd moved centimeters. But that's more than I'd moved in the past five years.

I heard rustling then. And whispers, lots of whispers. A boy saying something I couldn't make out. He pulled me to a sitting position, making me want to scream in agony. I took a shaky breath and coughed. I slowly opened my eyes, the light momentarily blinding me. I looked at the boy who'd helped me. I looked into his eyes. I'd never seen such a breathtaking green.

Judging by his eyes, he must have been Percy. And according to my nameless friend, he would probably know who it was that had been visiting best. "Who-" I started, starting the search for my mysterious friend.

But I was interrupted by his response of, "I'm Percy. You're safe now." And I knew I was. So I figured I could have some fun before they figured out I knew what was going on. I pulled the most confused face I could muster.

"Strange dream…" I muttered.

"It's okay,"

"Dying."

I stared, trying not to laugh as his face melted to a sympathetic one. "No, you're okay. What's your name?"

Oh, please, he's more clueless than I thought. I stared him down, and it looked like he was putting it together.

I was suddenly tired, and acutely aware of the pain that had yet to disappear. Collecting my remaining strength, I said in the strongest voice I could, "I am Thalia. Daughter of Zeus."

And that's when I blacked out.


	3. Promises to Keep

**Author's notes: This story was nominated for a Verita award! I'd like to thank you, whoever did that. I apologize for not updating sooner, but soccer started and that takes up a big portion of my time, along with our standardized state tests that our teachers are freaking out for, and solo and ensemble contest. Sorry to keep you all waiting.**

I remember getting the Di Angelo siblings. I tried talking to them, before they got captured. They seemed really close, they really cared about each other. It must have been nice, they both seemed happy. I never had a relationship like that with anyone. Or at least, I didn't at the time. Luke couldn't be trusted and Annabeth, well, Annabeth wasn't the little girl we'd saved anymore. She could think for herself and she could fight for herself. We weren't as close.

I remember that I blamed Percy for getting Annabeth in trouble. I knew I would've done the same thing if I was in his position, but I didn't really _know_ it, it never connected in my mind.

I remember Percy, Grover, Bianca, and finding Annabeth.

I remember Zoe. That was what changed my mind. She was a stubborn, over-zealous, smug brat. Of course, so was I. One night when everyone was sleeping, she whispered to herself, " Εάν είναι η καρδιά που πέφτει ερωτευμένη γιατί είναι οι μνήμες που συνεχίζουν πίσω?" _If it is the heart that falls in love why is it the memories that keep flooding back?_

I turned to her and saw two small tears slide down her face. She jumped when I put my hand on her shoulder, and she tried to wipe away her tears with one hand while driving with the other. "Everyone cries," I told her.

"Όχι" _He did not._

"No, but he died an agonizing death by a dead enemy craving revenge."

"Thalia," she said. "I want thy promise. No matter what thou should choose, stick by it forever. Changing lanes too late in a race will do nothing of good to change the outcome." That one uncharacteristically kind moment would change everything.

I remembered all of that, though I remember nothing else. Except, of course, the death.

She took my hand as she died, holding with all the strength she had left. "I am sorry we argued. We could have been sisters."

"It was my fault," I said, holding back tears. What she had said before had really made me think. She had given me advice. "You were right about Luke, about heroes, men-everything."

"Perhaps not all men. Do you still have your sword, Percy?" Once it had been handed to her, she spoke again. "You spoke the truth, Percy Jackson. You are nothing like… like Hercules. I am honored that you carried this sword." The fact that a hunter had said that had made it even more amazing. She could die knowing that that some men truly can be honorable. The same thoughts that stood with Zoe in death would stay with me forever. She shuddered, whispering, "Stars, I can see the stars again, my lady. Stars." I lowered my head. I had never thought the day would come that I would mourn Zoe Nightshade.

That was how I wanted to die, like Zoe did. With honor, fighting, surrounded by friends, knowing what was important. And so, I would become the first maiden to join the hunt without a broken heart or a hatred of men. Artemis later asked me to join the hunt, and I accepted without hesitation, because I knew my place in the world.


	4. Friends

**AN: Family cookout! Yes! Bring on the greasy-bread!**

I loved being a hunter. The thrill of the chase, the peace of being surrounded by my sisters, the gratification of helping heal a broken heart.

When the war came, I pleaded with Artemis to let me help the campers. It was our responsibility as hunters to protect the innocent people. Or to protect the girls, at least. And I would do that, even if it meant I wouldn't be a hunter.

But the hunters went, though they weren't too happy about being told how to fight by a boy. And we won.

And then it got worse. Artemis would send us on missions, and she would go on separate ones. She would still communicate with us, but it wasn't the same carefree, happy hunting environment that was there before. And I wasn't the only one to notice it. And then there came Jason.

When I learned that Jason was alive… I didn't know what to feel. I felt bad, that when I finally had a chance to be his big sister, I was already a hunter. I was amazed that he survived. I was ecstatic that he was there. But, though I would never tell him, I was disappointed. Not in him, in myself. He was alive, all this time, and I didn't know. I didn't try to find him. And that crushed me inside. I couldn't do what I was supposed to do. I was a failure.

But I was happy for him. He was one of the seven of the prophecy, and he helped save everything. I couldn't tell you the details of seven fighting Gaia, the battle was a blur even then.

It seemed like almost nothing had changed, though everything did. My days were a blur of motion, always changing, never repeating. My nights were spent with my sisters, whether calming the younger ones down, or telling stories, or actually sleeping. After so many years with the hunters now, I couldn't ever recall what was said at the campfires, or why the girls were frightened. There is only one memory that I can truly remember. And really, it wasn't a memory at all. Because somewhere in the joyously chaotic days and the calmness of the nights, I grew to realize something.

I was happy.

My memories are a blur of faces. Half of the hunters in any group ended up breaking their vows, though it wasn't too unusual for any time.

Though I was surrounded by sisters, what I really, truly needed was a friend. My sisters and I could whisper secrets at night, or we could comfort one another around the campfire. But in the day, I wore the lieutenant's circlet, and, in the absence of Artemis, my word was law. No one could contradict me, no one could lie to me and, though I wish it weren't true, put simply, no one could trust me.

And in my mind, he was always a friend.


	5. The Lake

Artemis had sent me and a few other hunters to Camp or recruiting. When we were dropped off at Half-Blood Hill, I didn't stop at my tree like I had the last few times I visited camp. I sent the hunters to the cabin and sent a message to Chiron that we'd arrived.

I ended up wandering around camp, thinking. It must have been about two centuries since I had been here last. I wouldn't come near this place since Annabeth died. I took a seat on the edge of the canoe lake. I loved the lake at this time of night. The reflection of the sky was amazing, and the water moved just enough that I could see the stars, not the constellations. I was not in the mood to remember all their stories. I was too busy trying to figure out my own.

For as long as I had been gone, camp hadn't changed so much. The cabins were still the same, the people still acted the same. But something was off. I just didn't know what. And so I sat there, on the edge of the lake.

"Thalia." I tensed, but my eyes remained trained on the water. Whoever it was, they were lucky I couldn't see their reflection.

"Thalia," he said again in his honey-sweet voice. I stood and brushed mud off of my silver jeans, still facing the lake.

"Thalia?" I knew that voice. The barely there southern drawl, the lightness of the tone. It was him. But I wouldn't turn around. I couldn't make myself.

"What happened to you Thalia?" He whispered. "You've changed. You're not yourself anymore."

I whipped around. "I'm as much myself today as I was two centuries ago!" I snapped, looking anywhere but him. I wasn't ready to know yet.

"That's a lie any you know it. Just look at yourself." I mentally looked over myself, and he was right. I couldn't find one piece of black or leather or chain or stud. You wouldn't find any makeup and I'd stopped spiking my hair long ago.

I looked up into his eyes. I'd depended on him so many years. "Goodbye, Argus." And so, I turned and left. Because what he said was true, and we both knew it. I wasn't myself. But I was going to find me.

See, people build up wall to see who cares enough to break them down. Sometimes, no one does. You just have to live with it.

**AN: I have a challenge for you. In the list of characters, Argus isn't included. So, I want you to write your own story featuring Argus. Any length, any roll, it doesn't matter.**


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